


Knock Knock Knockin on the Doyle's Door!

by PaintedYertle



Category: The Thrilling Adventure Hour
Genre: A few extra characters I haven't tagged, F/M, Ghosts, Healthy Relationships, Yuletide, Yuletide 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedYertle/pseuds/PaintedYertle
Summary: The Doyles look forward to doing nothing together, as usual, until many people come knocking their door for a party they forgot they were throwing. But the biggest surprise is that it may be people, or other supernatural beings, they would actually care to see.“It seems as though this party is really going to happen,” Sadie said, “Do we even have the supplies for a party?”“Drinks?” Frank asked. The two glanced around, “Got those!”They clinked.





	Knock Knock Knockin on the Doyle's Door!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stars_inthe_sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars_inthe_sky/gifts).



            Frank and Sadie Doyle were not anticipating company. They never do, even after they constantly end up having it and even when they actually invite people over. But currently they were together in their wide and upper crust apartment suite as Sadie tried on her Extravagant Hats in front of Frank. It would be best to look your best when headlining the society pages.

            “Perhaps a tophat,” Sadie said, “No wait! Bow-ler. No! Bee-rea. Oh ooh! Cow-boy-ah!. Or maybe cloe-shey.” Sadie pronounced hat like “hay-at”.

            “Just a second, Dearest.” Frank said, “Allow me to close the door to the balcony. We wouldn’t want a repeat of your primary and my secondary or tertiary greatest trauma.”

            The married mediums both shuddered at the memory of the dreaded bee.

            “Well, it is the middle of winter,” Sadie said, “But you can never be too careful!”

            “ _Bee_ careful? Wary of those puns, hun. You never know what can tempt them.”

            “Egad, you’re correct! That pun was so subtle I wasn’t aware I was making it!”

            Frank walked over to close the door, hooked it shut, and closed the blinds for good measure.

            "There's nothing better than dedicating ourselves to becoming reclusive and yet spending time with the one you love."

            "Well, darling, being reclusive makes you elusive to the public."

            They clinked.

            At that very moment, there was a knock. But it did not sound like a single knock, but a knock from several separate places. 

            “Ugh, that better not be a _person_.” Frank said with disgust.

            “Or a bipedal English speaking monster-being that may resemble a human,” Sadie said, then had a small gasp, “Oh, dear, I’m so dreadfully sorry, I may have placed an order of an imported hat. Or possibly a treasure from the southern isles someone put on the eBay.”

            Frank turned around, something close to a look of betrayal.

            “Sadie-love,” Frank said, “When you order packages, you are practically inviting people to our front door.”

            “You're right. In fact, the chances may even dip from ‘practically’ to ‘actually’ and perhaps even in the realm of ‘literally’.”

            “Precisely. That is why we stick to auctions. When I was in need of dishwashing soap, I went to an action, and returned with what was thought to be a sword forged from titanium, but was actually tin foil.”

            “Goody! But that does explain why we had to wash our dishes with handsoap.”

            _Knock knock knock._

“Oh, _you’re_ still here.” Frank said to the onomatopoeia, “Shall we ignore it?”

            “My usual vote would be yes, but while we assume we may be whisked off on some fantastic adventure, it usually lasts no longer than just above twenty-five minutes. With the exception being, strangely, on holidays, which it isn’t today.”

            “Right again, as usual! Maybe if we were to appear unapproachable, they would leave.”

            Frank walked to the door, grabbing his trusty mahogany steak from the umbrella basket and approached the door. He turned the knob and opened the door to a young man in a Harvard shirt. Frank managed to recognize him, for once, and immediately his steak behind his back.

            “Ken the liquor boy!” Sadie cried, “Why, a person we would actually choose to see!”

            Frank casually slid the pointy implement back next to some umbrellas and canes made of silver.

            “I don’t think we’re quite out of liquor yet, but it never hurts to have more.”

            “Oh, I don’t give liquor to you guys anymore,” Ken said, “I’m still in school."

            “You went to college?!” Frank asked.

            “You two paid for my college,” Ken said, pointing to the name on his sweatshirt.

            “Oh that’s riiiiiiiiiight.” Sadie said.

            “I was back in the city visiting family, so I thought I’d drop by. It looks like I’m the first one here.”

            “First?!” Frank and Sadie asked.

            “Yeah. I got an invite to your New Years party.”

            “Frank Doyle! You should know better. Don’t you remember that when you send invites it is a guarantee that the people who receive them will _return to our door_ with the invites?”

            “But it’s not even New Years! You can tell because the New York streets are only the usual levels of intolerable.”

            The two glanced at their Sunsets in Vineyards calendar. It was especially out of date, given that they were using a calendar at all.

            “Well, it mentioned on the invite you wanted to celebrate it a little earlier this year.” Said Ken.

            “Probably because our previous New Years party nearly caused the stoppage of time itself,” said Sadie, “Knowing us, it was for the best.”

            “Oh.” said Frank, “That means multiple people are bound to be visiting.”        

 _Knock knock._ It was another knock, but the curious thing was, Ken had yet to close the door Frank opened for him. No one else was standing there.

            Frank rubbed his temples. “Oh, do not even _tell me_ we got haunted.”

            “Again.” Sadie added.

            Ken tried on one of the hats with flowers on it, because he could. “That didn’t sound like just one knock.” He said.

            “Correct, you crescent roll.” Said Frank.

            “You mean a cinnamon roll, darling. I perused the Social Media while going on the eBay.”

            “I already fight enough demons in real life to have a social media. Anyway! There were two knocks from two different places. And there are a lot of doors and places in this apartment alone.”

            “The sun set, so the ghosts roam without warning,” said a voice at the open door. Every shade on the windows miraculously became slanted.

            “Pterodactyl Jones!” Sadie clapped her hands.

            “You keep exclaiming their names out loud, love,” said Frank, “Almost as if someone in the room is unfamiliar with them.”

            “That someone is usually you, Frank-dear.”

            “That might may be!” The two clinked, “”You didn’t knock on the door, Jones. That’s what makes you a true-blue friend.”

            “Yes, and Harvey has returned from his trip from Hell. New Jersey Hell.” PJ said, “It turns out the door out of there is the Xanadu ski slope next to the Izod Center, and that’s why it’s always under construction. ”

            “I’m certain if I were from New Jersey I would understand what you what you just said, but then again, I don’t want to be from New Jersey.”

            A rim shot could be heard in the distance. Spooky Hal, while he did not count as a ghost, had been practicing.

            “It seems as though this party is really going to happen,” Sadie said, “Do we even have the supplies for a party?”

            “Drinks?” Frank asked. The two glanced around, “Got those!”

            They clinked.

            “But what this means," Frank continued, "is if it’s a holiday party, then our adventure may or may not last longer than just over twenty-five minutes!”

            “Gasp!” said Sadie, saying the word instead of actually gasping. She pronounced it _gaye-esp_.

            Another knock happened, despite the fact the suite door was still open. The knocks were the antithesis of the clink.

            “We can’t leave you two alone without some crack-pot mystery going on,” said PJ.

            “Let’s begin looking, before too many guests we forgot we invited start to arrive.” Sadie said. She closed the front door.

            They looked in different places, all except for the bedroom, which was off limits. It was slightly less off limits than the washroom, until Sadie walked in and saw another figure in the mirror. She almost screamed, but then squealed.

            “Why, Bloody Mary, is that you?” Sadie asked, “It’s ever so good to see you again!”

            The other occupants rushed to Sadie's squee.

            “Is that a dame?” PJ asked.

            “No, no. I mean – yes, but not the kind you’re thinking. Aren’t you a ghost?”

            Ken, who was still present and was not able to see ghosts, was confused but still following. Clearly, despite his education, he wasn’t a True Believer.

            “Well, yes, but that’s the thing I came to talk to you about.” Mary said, “I managed to get off work for your party, but right before I left, I noticed there was a bit of a rift in the ghost dimension. I dunno how it happened; it looked like someone left a door open by accident. And it leads to this apartment.”

            “Oh, wonderful!” Frank cried, “Guests we didn’t even invite!”

            “How many extra guests are we considering?” Sadie asked.

            Mary shrugged. At that moment, there was a sound that made both Frank and Sadie tense. It wasn't a knock and it wasn't a clink. It was a single hum from inside the wall.

            It entered through the wall.

            “BEE!”

            “But how did a bee get in here?" PJ asked, "The windows and doors to the balcony are closed.”

            “GHOST BEE!” Sadie and Frank shouted. They hid behind the couch.

            "Do you think it has a vendetta against us?" Sadie asked. She pronounced it VAIN-DEYA-TAH.

            "How so? Despite our feud, we've never committed murder against any Dreaded Bee."

            "Perhaps it gained no sustenance during the winter? And is taking it out on us for not sheltering it?!"

            The Bee roamed around through the air, not landing on anything  or aiming for anything in particular. 

            PJ rushed off to grab a newspaper and a plastic cup. Ken was still confused at what he was looking at.

            "It can't be swatted. It can't be contained," said Frank, "It can only threaten to satisfy its bee needs."

            Then there was another sound. It sounded like glass touching glass but not quite a clink. 

            Frank peeked over the couch. It was a young woman with a tray of cookies with a glass lid over it. The glass lid had managed to confine the Ghost Bee.

            “Oh, hello Catherine.” Frank did a double take. “Oh, this night just gets even better.”

            “Sorry. I heard there was a party going on,” said Catherine, “Is there not one?”

            “How could you have heard that?” Sadie asked.

            “Through the ghost-vine?” said Catherine, “I tried making cookies for the occasion, but by the time I got to this dimension…” Catherine brought a hand over a bag, leaving a sticky trail of ectoplasm behind.

            “So many dames…” said Jones, rushing back with a roll of paper towels and a mug reading  _World's Greatest Hubby_. “Two ghost dames…”

            “It’s alright, PJ, just hold on to your emotional support ghost dinosaur.” Sadie said, pronouncing dinosaur DYE-NO-SORE-ERE, “That wasn’t something I learned off the Social Media, but off the TV show targeted to my age range ‘critiquing’ the social media.”

            “No, I would never place Catherine into danger again. Especially when she came all this way to have a good time.”

           The Ghost Bee phased though the cookie container lid. It left a spot of ectoplasm behind. 

           Oh." said Catherine, "I assumed that since the cookies were from the ghost dimension, it would cancel out the bee's intangibility. I guess that's one of the many reasons why I don't hunt ghosts anymore."

            The Doyles didn't catch most of that. Frank dived to a new spot behind the counter while Sadie was under her pile of hats. She drew a sigil on the floor with the chalk from her dress pocket. Sadie Doyle always wore dresses with pockets in them, because she was both prepared and a cool person. Then door knocked again, and since it was shut, Sadie didn't want to bother. But it wasn't locked, so it opened up, and a person walked through this time. there this time.

            Or rather, multiple people. Or rather, a vampire, a werewolf, and their unclassified offspring, but they count as people, you monster.

            "Is...something going on?" Donna Henderson asked.

            “Sorry Donna,” Sadie said, “We’re having a bit of a ghost rift predicament at the moment.”

            “Oh, alright,” said Donna, “I brought hors d'oeuvres!” Donna did not pronounce that at all how it was written.

            Donna's young daughter Michelle wandered into the room. She could walk by now and seemed calmer than the adults around her.

            "Careful, child," Frank said, poking his head over the counter, "That creature has terrible powers. Like stinging you when you aren't aware if you're allergic. Or ruining you food by touching it. Or buzzing by your ear to have it appear louder than it actually is."

            Michelle was likely old enough to understand what was said to her, but she stayed where she was. 

            "Dave, Donna," Sadie said, "Can little Michelle see ghosts?"

            "We aren't sure," said Donna's husband Dave, "We haven't tested it. Though that may be convenient for 'Bring Your Child to Work Day'."

            Michelle, walked over and waved her arm at the bee. It showed great bravery.  The bee shoed away, phasing through another wall to the outside. She had been threatened by worse.

            “Well done!” said Dave.

            Sadie and Frank crept out from out of their hiding spaces. 

            "Well, that's settled, then." said Frank, dusting off his suit.

            "Not quite." said Sadie, "Remember, it turns out more ghosts are coming over."

            "Well, there might not be too much of a problem in that." said Donna, "You know what they say, the more the scarier."

            "Y'know, Frank, we are socialites. Why don't we try this trend of being social?"

            "That sounds unpleasant. But not in comparison to the fear I just faced. Let's do it."

            As time went on more people creatures of other categories arrived. There turned out to not be very many ghosts, but the ones who showed up were pretty chill.

            “But what caused the ghost rift in the first place?” Sadie asked.

            “I'm a medium, and not a professional detective, so I don't know and I don't care.”

            Then there was one last knock on the balcony door. It was quiet and displayed no urgency. Frank cautiously opened the balcony door. There was someone standing at the end of it, staring at the stars blotted out by the city glimmers. It was a kid, older than Michelle but younger than Ken.

            Peter Hendrick was Frank’s only friend who wasn’t technically old enough to drink. Then again, until tonight, Frank thought there were very few he could call a friend.

            “Peter, what are you doing here?” Frank asked.

            “Oh, y’know,” Peter said, “Ghosting. It’s sort of been my thing ever since I involuntarily became a ghost.” Peter waved it off, “But, y’know, water under the bridge. Or, _well_ in this circumstance.”

            “Well in what circumstance?”

            “No, as in an actual well. Like the one I was eaten in. You were there.”

            “Clearly you’ve never experienced the joys of repressed memories.” Peter shifted a little. He looked as if he had a response for that, but as he said, water under the well. “So…how’s heaven treating you?”

            “Oh, pretty good! I made friends, became active in the community. But the darndest thing about heaven, is that everything is usually set in place, so it doesn’t have many mysteries in need of solving.”

            “Oh.” Frank circled what little remained at the bottom of his glass, then walked over to Peter at the wall of the balcony.

            “Sorry for causing a ruckus.”

            Frank shrugged. “It’s no more or less trouble than what my current occupation brings.”

            “You sure are lucky to have Sadie. I wish she was part of our gang back then.”

            “Sadie’s older than us. She would’ve never joined our gang, even if she wasn’t in boarding school at the time.”

            “Oh.”

            “Why don’t you come inside? We have,” _don’t say booze don’t say booze don’t say booze_ “…board games?”

            “Tempting.” Peter deadpanned, “I wanted to join your party, but,” Peter glanced behind him at the light behind the sliding doors, “It’s a lot of adults. I suppose I got intimidated.”

            “You kidding? They would be thrilled to meet an apparition! And there is a minimum of one whole werewolf in there.”

            Peter grinned, “Yeah, but there’s no moon out tonight, so I’ll bet they’ll want to chat about,” he thought on it, “the economy or model ships, or whatever my pop liked to talk about.”

            Peter’s grin faded at that, and Frank knew he had to remedy the situation.

            “On the note of board games, we have Clue, of course.”

            Peter shrugged. “Alright. I tore a hole in the space-time continuum to get here, so what the hey.”

            When the two of them walked inside, the suite was filled all types of strange people.”

            “Frank!” Sadie called, “You’ve never met my grandparents have you? Nanna, Poppop, this is my husband, Frank. He’s the one who encouraged my medium abilities.” She caught sight of Peter. “Oh, Peter Hendricks!”

            “Hendrick, actually.”

            “It’s so good to see you. Why don’t you acquaint yourself with the other young ghosties?”

            Sadie nudged Peter to the side. Nearby wasn't any ghost children, but he did bump into Michelle, who was much younger in comparison to the age Peter appeared to be. 

            "What creature are you 'sposta be?" Michelle asked.

            "Uh," said Peter, "A detective?"

            "Ooooooh, my daddy's a detective. Can you turn into a doggy too?"

            "No, but I am a ghost."

            "Coooooooool."

            “Y’know Sadie-Love,” said Frank, “we may have, for once, learned a lesson from this situation.” 

            “Perhaps. Are we in agreement of what that would be?”

            “That we may actually-”

            “Have friends?”

            Frank shivered. “Ugh, my former angsty loner self is cringing.”

            “Well, would you want to be your former loner self?”

            “Not without you. And as long as you’re in my life, I won’t be a loner.”

            They clinked. The New Year was arriving, and with it a new set of adventures.

**Author's Note:**

> Had fun writing this! Happy holidays!  
> Side note, question for Adventurekateers: Who the heck was Arthur?! When I listened to that episode for the first time I thought it was Peter, but apparently the Doyle’s, who are notorious for not befriending people, befriended a second ghost child??? Why didn’t they just say it was Peter??? It’s not like they need to hire the same actor back.
> 
> Anyway that's just what I noticed while editing. The TAH wiki is detailed and amazing in and out of context.  
> Comments always appreciated!


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